The Dancing Dozen
by Vicious Pink
Summary: "12 Dancing Princesses" retold. Takes place in the Rocky Mountains, early 1918. A mining town is run by a scary man involved in the occult. A disabled war veteran moves to town and decides to investigate the man's strange relationship with his daughters.
1. Chapter 1

"Shame, ain't it?" Frank tsked as he observed the young woman who had just walked into the supply store. "I bet there's a pretty thing under all that mess o' fabric."

Rufus, sitting at the lunch counter next to Frank, craned his head around to get a view of what his coworker was busy shaking his head at. The woman, probably in her late teens, looked perfectly normal to Rufus. She was dressed warmly and practically, with several layers of petticoats peeking out from under a thick tartan skirt, and a long, corduroy coat in forest green concealed whatever she was wearing above her thighs. She had on men's work boots rather than more fashionable footwear, which also seemed reasonable to Rufus. The mining town wasn't designed for soft, fancy shoes. He turned back to Frank and gave him a dirty look.

"It's _winter,_" he pointed out. "The snow's hip-deep where it's not shoveled, and in case you haven't been outside recently, it hasn't been above freezing in weeks."

"That's one o' Frumoldus's girls, though," grunted Frank, defending his earlier statement. Rufus looked once more at the woman, trying to scrutinize her without seeming too obvious.

"Frumoldus, huh?" pondered Rufus. Theodoric Frumoldus was the owner of Peak Fuel Company and founder of the town surrounding its operations. If Rufus had to wager a guess, he'd put his money on Theo Frumoldus being descended from ogres. It had only taken a couple of run-ins with the company owner for Rufus to consider him that intimidating with the matching appearance, which was nothing like the woman in the shop. Strands of her curly red hair had broken free from the updo concealed underneath her black fur hat, framing the delicate features of her face. Her light green eyes were appealingly upturned, and she had a small mouth with full, ruby lips, much like a porcelain doll. The cold nip from outside put a nice glow in her cheeks and nose as well. "She doesn't look a thing like that baboon father of hers," he remarked. _At least she's not wearing a permanent scowl,_ he thought.

Frank chuckled, "You ain't been here here that long, so I'll cut you a break for not knowing more about that weird old codger." Rufus glanced at his lunch companion sidelong in confusion. Frank continued, "He breeds for looks."

"Hm. That's far from weirdest reason for mating, but it does sound less than loving, I suppose," Rufus said without asking for further explanation, taking a long swig of his drink before hopping down from his stool. "Anyway, why would it matter what she's wearing?"

"You kiddin'?" Frank snorted. "Them Frumoldus kids shouldn't have to go on supply runs for Daddy. That girl right there should be inside embroidering or playing piano or doing something else ladies do. But that freak makes all of his daughters work outdoors, in the stables, in the sheds... wherever." Frank leaned in Rufus's direction and mumbled confidentially—though not really all that discreetly by Rufus's standards—out of the corner of his mouth, "Wanna know what that kook father of hers is really like? He thinks he's a prophet of some Ancient Egyptian god or something. I don't know. He tells everyone he was given exactly 12 daughters to represent, uh, some ancient principles of life, I think. 'Least that's what I heard. I wonder if he's just angry he never had a son and wants to make himself out to be the greatest thing since Jesus walked on water. So, his daughters aren't _daughters,_ they're symbols, and because they're symbols he makes 'em prove their worth. It's ridiculous."

"Sounds like it," Rufus agreed as he put his coat on, keeping an eye on the woman as she loaded bags of feed onto a cart. It _was _strange, indeed. Ancient Egypt? Symbols of life? What would prompt someone to turn these things into a lifestyle? Rufus could only sigh; he'd been in town a mere three weeks, and there was still quite a bit he had yet to learn, obviously. Frank's gossiping wasn't always reliable, anyway. "We need to get back to the station," he told Frank as he gestured towards the door.

"Yeah, yeah," Frank groaned as he slowly put his feet on the ground. "I ain't as spry as you are, you know. I don't know how you do it, either. You don't seem dwindled much by the war."

"I was in France for three months," Rufus said, growing perturbed by the mention of his final deployment. "That's all. Not nearly long enough to slow me down."

Frank raised a skeptical eyebrow and nodded at Rufus's left arm. "What do you call that, then, if that ain't slowin' you down?"

Rufus held up his left arm, or what remained of it, anyway. It was amputated from the elbow down. Frank's blunt question caused Rufus's mood to turn. He looked at his arm, still coming to terms with the permanence of his injury. It could have been worse. It could have been a _lot _worse, but that wasn't consolation for its loss. He had to teach himself to live without it, and every day was a painful reminder that it was gone. Right now, in fact, he was buttoning his coat one-handed. "I call it unfortunate," replied Rufus in near-monotone, a touch defensively. Suddenly 30 years seemed too short a time to have had the use of both arms, and whatever remained of his life seemed too long to do with just one.

His older coworker lacked a rudeness filter, but so did many of the people he met in the small town of Thebes. _Thebes, _he suddenly realized, smirking to himself. Rufus was no scholar, but the recent archaeological excavations in Egypt made the news enough—when the news wasn't about the war—for him to recognize where Theo got the name of his town. _How peculiar, _he thought, once again pondering the old man's daughter. Just as he found himself glancing back in her direction, the top bag of feed on her flat cart started slipping to the ground as the woman's arms were full with another bag. Rufus darted over to her, startling her as he blocked the bag from falling away from the rest of the precarious stack.

"That was close!" he said friendlily, giving her a warm smile. Still stunned, she let out a strained chortle over the incident, thanked him softly and went back to her business. Maybe Rufus was new to town, but somehow it didn't surprise him that any of Theo's children were antisocial. Before she could plop the bag in her arms onto the stack, though, she was stopped by Rufus's hand, pushing her bag gently away from the cart.

"Hey, you know what?" asked Rufus, keeping up his jovial tone. "Let's rearrange this stack," he continued, removing bags and re-piling them staggered, like bricks, "so that it'll be easier for us to carry them out of store." There were no protests from the young woman; she merely looked lost with her deer-in-the-headlights expression and curious glances at his ability to manipulate the pile quickly with only one hand. As he took the last bag out of her hands, she straightened her coat and brushed her hands together.

"'Us'?" she repeated with a sniff, shifting her eyes at him as he stood up.

"Oh, my apologies," he grinned again and held out his hand. "I'm Rufus Underwood. You probably don't recognize me, but come up to the train station and you might see me around."

She hesitated briefly before shaking his hand. "Kay Frumoldus," she said guardedly, emphasizing her surname. Rufus wasn't sure if the emphasis was a warning or an attempt to put a social barrier between them, but it was about as cold as the icicles dangling from the supply store's roof. However, it didn't daunt the war veteran, who nonchalantly took his wool cap out of his trouser pocket, slapped it once on his thigh and then secured it to his head, all the while giving Kay a familiar grin.

"Well, nice to meet you, Kay," he nodded at her, gripped the cart's handle and made his way to the store's entrance.

"I haven't paid for those yet," she worriedly pointed at the cart as Rufus took it away.

"All right, then. You do that and I'll take these outside for you. "Is that your truck?" he inquired, pointing at the Ford idling near the front of the store. She bobbed her head and quickly turned to the cashier. Frank joined Rufus, snickering as they headed to Kay's truck.

"If you're tryin' to find a girl in this here town, you better look elsewhere," Frank told Rufus as they exited the store.

Rufus was sure Frank's second job was to tease the station's newest employees. "I'm not trying anything like that at all," he corrected the old man. "I'm just being nice. She's a bit young, anyway."

"Wouldn't stop me," Frank said facetiously with a wink. "Which one is she, anyway? J? G? I?"

Rufus looked lost. "Excuse me?"

"What's her name begin with?"

"She said her name was Kay."

"Ahh," Frank replied with an amused grin. "She _is _one o' the youngest."

Rufus shrugged as he shook his head, baffled by Frank's strange musing. "I don't understand."

"Well, Kay ain't her real name, just so you know. It's something much more bizarre, I'm sure. She's..." he paused as he looked like he was concentrating on a math formula, "...almost the youngest. The L girl is the only one who's younger."

"Frank," Rufus griped as he and his older friend began tossing bags into the truck's bed, "you know that makes no sense to me whatsoever. What do you mean by all of those letters?"

"The Frumoldus girls," said Frank, picking up another bag, "have alphabetical names, from A to L."

_Great. More quirkiness, _Rufus inwardly groaned.

"And," Frank continued, lobbing the bag into the back of the truck, "they're named after people, too. People from opera, I think."

"You mean singers?" questioned Rufus. "Or characters?"

"How would I know, kid? I don't keep up with that stuff."

Rufus wasn't surprised. It was a long ride to Denver, where one might enjoy the theater on occasion. Frank wasn't into more refined entertainment, anyway. Rufus was pretty sure Frank only owned records by Billy Murray, which he played often on the station's Victrola. Rufus switched his train of thought back to Kay and was about to ask Frank what else he knew about Theo's daughters, but Kay was coming down the store's front steps, ending their current conversation.

Her expression was softer now, and she smiled faintly as she tucked a wisp of her fiery hair behind an ear. "Thank you for the help," she nodded politely at both men. "I probably shouldn't have tried this alone, but I'm stubborn like that." She reached into her coin purse to retrieve some change for the two men, but Rufus stopped her, placing his hand on top of hers.

"The pleasure's ours," he told her sincerely. Frank glowered at Rufus and grumbled a complaint about refusing her tip as he hoisted the empty cart into the truck. Kay continued to smile but tilted her head slightly and narrowed her eyes.

"You really aren't from around here, but I like it better that way. Welcome to Thebes," she said as she moved to the driver's side and opened the door. "Maybe I'll see you around the station." She didn't wait for a response before getting in the truck and slowly making her way down the icy dirt road.

"Yep, it's a shame," Frank lamented as he watched the truck disappear over the hill. "Daddy wasted all that beauty by making her work in the coops. Plus, she sure is a block of ice."

"She's just a little cautious. There's nothing wrong with that," Rufus said in Kay's defense.

Frank turned to Rufus and raised his eyebrows. "Well, well... already smitten, huh?"

Rufus eyeballed Frank. "Too young, Frank. Too young. Too Frumoldus as well, probably. From the sound of it, I don't think I want anything to do with that family."

"Good, good," Frank approved. "Daddy's too picky to marry any of them off, anyway. They're all destined to be old maids."

That seemed sad to Rufus. If Kay was one of the younger ones, then that meant the oldest was at least in her late 20s, probably. They had no say in their own relationships?

"Let me guess," Rufus sighed. "It has something to do with them being symbols, not daughters."

Frank clapped a hand on Rufus's back. "You're learnin' fast."

Rufus shook his head in disgust as the two men headed down the street, back to the nearby train station. He watched the clouds he made with his warm breath and thought about his encounter with Kay. It really was a shame Theo was wasting his daughters' lives away. On the surface Theo didn't appear to be a violent or unstable person, in fact, what was really distressing was his calm but piercing glare. It was so uncomfortably calculating Rufus felt like his mind was being read... and then bored through with daggers. Maybe Theo had some strange hold over his children. He sounded like a domineering man. Perhaps the women were afraid of being disinherited, or perhaps their father had threatened worse on them. Rufus shuddered, not from the cold, but from the realization that this town was founded and run by someone as potentially disturbing as Theodoric Frumoldus.


	2. Chapter 2

"Where've you been?" snapped Aida as Kay pulled the truck into the garage. Kay noted the usual look of reproach plastered to her sister's face. Aida's worn-out expression was always accompanied by a stern lecture; Kay watched as her sister took in a very deep breath. _Here it comes,_ Kay thought. "If you needed to get something from town, you should have at least taken Carmen with you! For goodness sake, Kay, if you'd been gone any longer Father _surely _would have shut down the entire town until you reappeared!"

"You worry too much," Kay said, rather dismissively, stepping on her skirt as she climbed out of the truck and tumbled to the ground with all the grace of a Vaudevillian comedy act. Aida sighed wearily as she hooked an arm under her sister's and helped her to standing, brushing dirt from Kay's front while continuing with her verbal lashing. Kay wasn't paying attention to any of it. She was thinking of that strange man from the store, wondering where he'd come from and if she'd see him again. Well, if he worked at the train station, it was likely she...

"Are you listening to me?" Aida interrupted Kay's daydreaming. Kay looked over at her sister, coming out of her reverie while blinking a few times. Oops. It was so easy to get lost in thought. "Oh, never mind," grumbled Aida. "It's almost three and Father will want you in the kitchen soon enough. Worry about putting the feed away later; let's go."

Kay felt herself being dragged along by Aida, though she wasn't doing it to be cruel. Kay had come to accept her eldest sister as her caretaker, even if Kay was 19 years old now. Maybe she still needed the extra push to get things done, or maybe she just liked Aida's maternal nature. She certainly _looked_ like a mother at times, dressing in a muted, mature color palette and fighting the growing trends of looser waists and shorter hem lengths. She kept her long, dark hair tied up tightly, and she had this crazy love of knit shawls that Kay thought aged her well beyond her 32 years.

Kay tried to keep up with Aida, but her earlier encounter was plaguing her mind. "Have you met that new man? The one that works at the station?"

Aida kept moving along briskly, holding Kay by the upper arm. "Who?" she asked without turning around.

"Rufus... Under... something. Hill? I don't remember. Does Rufus ring a bell? He's surely the only one by that name in town."

"No, he doesn't sound familiar. Not by name, anyway. Would you pick up your feet, please?"

Kay ignored her sister's request, but not on purpose. "I think he only has one arm. It was hard to tell with his coat on, but he only used one arm, anyway."

Finally Aida stopped and turned to her sister, midway between the main estate and the sheds. "You met a one-armed man named Rufus?" she puzzled.

"I think so."

Aida wearily shook her head. "You 'think so'? Oh, Kay, what are we going to do with you? You have the worst memory ever, you wander off without letting anyone know where you're going, and you wind up bumping into a cast of characters that could fill a Keystone picture!"

Kay pouted. "It's better than rotting here."

Aida sighed again and put her hands on Kay's cheeks, changing her expression to one of loving concern. "I only worry because of what Father would do."

Kay lowered her eyes and mumbled, "He stays locked in his office all day long, only to come out when he wants something from us."

"Nevertheless," countered Aida, "if he found out you go into town as much as you do..." Her voice trailed off as she tilted Kay's head up and made her sister look her in the eyes.

"I know," woefully replied Kay. "Then we'd never get out of here, probably. I'm sorry."

Aida couldn't stay mad at her sister, especially for wanting something better for herself than confinement to the estate. She bent over and kissed her sister on the forehead, then gestured for them to continue walking towards their home. "Now _you're_ worrying too much. Nothing happened, after all, so let's not dwell on it anymore, all right?"

"Thank you," Kay exhaled, feeling remorseful over her lone trip into town. "I won't do it again, I promise."

Aida chuckled. "Oh, yes you will, and then we'll have this conversation again. I'm just sure of it. Oh well; at least you made a friend today, right?"

Kay followed her sister up the steps to the side entrance that led directly to the kitchen. She appeared doubtful. "Well... I don't know. He was nice to me, but I... I might have been a little standoffish."

Aida paused before opening the door, looked up at a second floor window and shook her head. "Oh, Daddy," she lamented. "Look what you've done to your little girls. We're all about as friendly and cuddly as cactus plants."

Kay tapped her sister on the shoulder and grinned wryly. "At least we know how to cook, right?"

Both sisters smiled at each other and laughed. "If we ever make it out of here," Aida giggled, "yes. At least we have _some _skills to make up for our lack of charm!" And with that, the two sisters, arm in arm and lost in fits of giggles, went inside to clean up and prepare supper.

* * *

The only thing pleasant about supper was the food. As usual, it was delicious. No matter which of the sisters had kitchen duty in the evening, the meal was always satisfying, though half the desire to excel at food preparation was to avoid disappointing their father. The other half was to have something to look forward to as the family gathered together in the dining room for an hour of unnerving silence. Most of the time it was so deathly quiet it was like being in a court room, with Judge Theodoric Frumoldus presiding. He was normally the only one to initiate any conversation at all, except for Aida's occasional bold attempts at pleasantries and chit-chat to liven the mood.

Poor Aida. No one could blame her for trying. She had firmly established herself as the role of Mistress of the estate, seemingly signed on to a life of servitude under her father in exchange for her sisters being allowed more freedom. Freedom, it seemed, that wasn't being issued to them after all. Now Aida was a mix of guilt and watchful protection as she tried to give her sisters opportunities to escape their father's control occasionally, tightening the strict confidence the sisters had between each other and willing to take the fall for any of their supposed transgressions. Though Aida was favored by her father, none of her sisters wished to be in her shoes.

After too many minutes filled only with the sounds of flatware clanging on plates, Aida finally put on a smile and looked up at her father, sitting across from her at the long table, who was eating while reading along in a giant tome resting on his end of the table. It was supposedly intimate family time, so Theo didn't care about table etiquette, at least not when it concerned him. Aida cleared her throat. At least two of the rest of her sisters—who flanked Aida and Theo, five on one side, six on the other—looked up, but her father remained fixed on his book.

"There seems to be no end to this cold snap, wouldn't you say, Father? I can't wait for spring; how about you?" asked Aida cheerfully.

The lull that followed her question made everyone else eat more quickly, causing more clanging, which was even more uncomfortable than the previous silence. Obviously Theo was not to be interrupted. More than a minute later he finally picked his head up and addressed Aida.

"You were saying?" he asked simply, as if it not much time at all had transpired since Aida originally spoke up. She stared at him with her jaw agape. Theo quickly put an end to her look of shock. "Aida," his voice rose, "keep your mouth closed unless you're going to answer my question." Aida clamped her jaw shut. Theo shook his head and went back to reading.

The oldest sister glanced at her plate of food and felt her appetite wither. She must have looked pitiful, as the second oldest, sitting to Aida's right, put a hand on her sister's shoulder and gave it a comforting rub. _It's all right, _the sister mouthed to Aida, who smiled weakly in return.

"Hildy!" Theo burst out suddenly, startling the entire table into performing little hops in their chairs and shifting glances at one another, especially at the sister who had been called out.

Hildy took her hand away from her sister. "Yes, Father?" she gulped.

"Why on Earth are you touching your sister at the table?"

Hildy felt an invisible spotlight on her as she looked around the table. "Reflex?" was her mousy reply.

"_Reflex?_" repeated Theo incredulously, letting out a grunt. "Control yourself. This isn't a saloon. Try living up to your namesake once in a while."

Hildy looked down, wondering how in the world she was supposed to live up to a Valkyrie. Was self-immolation in her future? That was a disgusting thought. Her name was actually quite awful, Hildy decided. "Yes, Father," she replied, diminished. She watched Theo once again return to his book, which she then eyed bitterly, feeling the contradiction of table manner standards between herself and her father.

Oh, how just about everyone at the table who wasn't Theo was ready for supper to conclude! He was eating so slowly due to that reading of his. Only one of the sisters, Lakmé, seemed not to care. She was stealthily pretending to play the piano under the table. Kay, sitting next to her, caught a glimpse and shook her head slightly at her sister's miming, amused at her look of bliss as she mouthed the words of a favorite tune, her golden ringlets swaying slightly as she moved her head side-to-side. Kay nudged her gently under the table as a reminder not to get too carried away with her piano pantomime.

The only person _more _lost in the clouds than Kay was her younger sister, but Kay decided daydreaming wasn't such a bad idea and began plotting her next town adventure as she idly stabbed a piece of steak and swirled it around in some of the melted butter that had collected in a pool next to her carrots. She could hear the ticking of the old porcelain clock sitting on one of the two buffet cabinets behind her, giving her a grim reminder that she was waiting out her time in such a stiff setting. Visiting the train station would be such fun, she thought. She should do something for Rufus. Maybe Frank, too, though that old man was such a gossipmonger she was sure her presence around him would likely become town legend or scandal, and that was a problem. Rufus, though, was different. He had a peculiar accent, almost foreign, maybe. Perhaps he was an immigrant? She thought a bit longer about what she could do for the two men, which conveniently filled the rest of suppertime.

After the dishes were cleaned and put away and Theo had gone back to his quarters for the night, the sisters convened in a secluded spot in the cellar, two floors down from their father. Plans were laid out, just as they had been the previous two nights. When everything had been settled and everyone was in agreement about their night activities, they left the cellar one or two of them at a time over several minutes. Back in their rooms they waited until ten o'clock, at which time Aida gave the signal. Within a few breathless minutes the estate was emptied of its female residents, who stole away down the road where several Fords waited for them.

* * *

For the third night in a row, Rufus, a light sleeper due in part to his time in the trenches, was awoken shortly after going to sleep by an odd procession of vehicles leaving town. He counted the cars; it was the same number as before, and Rufus wondered just how many more nights of this nocturnal caravaning he should expect. Perhaps it was time for him to wait out their return closer to the road, which happened the previous nights around three o'clock in the morning. Rufus was no busybody like Frank, but curiosity certainly was getting the better of him now.


	3. Chapter 3

The warm, robust aroma of coffee percolating on the old, cast iron stove filled the main room of Thebes' small train station, but allowing it to perk any longer would mean a ruined pot. Rufus jumped from his notes-taking position next to the telegraph and almost bumped into Frank as he rounded the old man's table, giving the stove and his coffee the moment's priority. Frank grumbled and smoothed out his copy of _The Rocky Mountain News, _which had been folded over once by the wind gust from Rufus's mad dash for caffeine.

"That's your second pot," noted Frank, a touch carping. "At this rate you'll be _made_ of coffee. 'Sides, ain't you s'posed to be a tea drinker?"

Rufus's only reply to Frank's obvious poke at his heritage was to chuckle. He carefully moved the pot from the stove to a hot pad on the nearby console table and went back to where he had been working to grab his mug. Frank peered over the top of his paper and eyeballed Rufus as he passed by once again. He cleared his throat to grab the veteran's attention. Rufus stopped in his tracks right beside the old man and waited for him to speak up.

Frank shifted his eyes to Rufus and reached for something on the table next to where his feet were propped up. With a casual sniff Frank produced his own mug from behind the paper and waved it at Rufus. "Pour me a cup, too, wouldja?"

Rufus tried not to appear indignant. He hooked the handle of Frank's mug with his thumb, now feeling something like a cross between a waiter and a mug rack. He hesitated before returning to the coffee pot, urging an explanation from Frank by tapping a foot. The old man finally looked up from his paper.

"What?" asked Frank, feigning ignorance. "Well, go on. It ain't gettin' warmer just sittin' there."

Rufus let out a snort. "That's it?"

Frank shook his paper once as he thumbed a page, turned it and replied, "I can't have you drinkin' that whole pot, can I? The last thing the station needs is a clerk who's hoppin' around like a jackrabbit come springtime. We got important people arrivin' today, you know."

The old man had a point, but Rufus wasn't drinking coffee by the gallons for the pure sport of it. "Sorry," he apologized as he set the mugs on the console table and picked up the pot. "I didn't get much sleep last night. Black?" he asked while pouring Frank's cup. He saw the station manager's head bob as a reply. Finished with preparing both drinks, Rufus set them on Frank's table and took the chair opposite his coworker. Frank sat up, folded his paper and picked up his mug.

"So what's this about not sleepin'? Oh, is it the war? Forget I asked."

"No, no," Rufus dismissed, "it wasn't that at all." He took a careful sip of his coffee while he pondered bringing up the late night motorcade through town. He set his mug down and tapped his fingers on it, letting his contemplation of last night's events break the conversation.

"Boy," Frank laughed finally, "I ain't seen you so lost in thought. Maybe you _do_ need the extra caffeine today."

Rufus nodded. "It's probably nothing, but I keep getting woken up at the same time every night. There are these cars, four of them..." he paused, noting Frank leaning closer to him and fidgeting with the handle of his mug. "You know about this?"

"What?" Frank startled, sitting back in his chair and suddenly coughing. "No, no. Go on. Four cars?"

"Yes." Rufus left it at that to watch Frank a bit more.

The old man grew nervous from Rufus's staring and couldn't hold his left leg still. "Is there somethin' on my face? Quit lookin' at me like that," demanded Frank as his leg shook.

"So what is it?" Rufus asked with a piercing glare. "What's going on at 10 o'clock and then again in the early morning?"

Frank squirmed slightly, but did not concede. "You sure you weren't no interrogator in the Army?"

Rufus, laughing, was about to reply, but the front door's bell rang_, _prompting the two men to quickly straighten up the room and wait for the impending guest or guests to make their way to the counter. Near the end of their tidying, Frank looked once into the lobby, smirked and turned towards Rufus, gesturing for him to take over duties at the counter's window. Rufus glowered, tired of having most of the station's work handed to him.

"I'm not even working the counter today," he complained.

Frank continued with his peculiar grin. "Just get over there. You'll thank me later."

Rufus was doubtful, but assumed the old man's place at the window, anyway. He was still busy giving Frank a dirty look as he put his hand on the counter. He shook his head as he finally turned around, but nearly jumped out of his shoes as the sight of Kay Frumoldus on the other side.

"Kay?" blurted Rufus, his eyes initially round as saucers. He quickly tried to compose himself, rubbing a hand down his face, as if to wipe away his startled expression.

Kay returned the look of surprise, but not because she wasn't expecting to see Rufus. "Oh, dear. Did I surprise you? I'm so sorry," she apologized, holding her velvet-gloved hands to her chest.

Rufus quickly backtracked. "No, you're fine. Don't worry. I mean, yes, this is a surprise, but it's a good one, really!" He ran his hand through his light brown hair, attempting to get as much of it out of his face as possible. He tried flashing Kay a friendly grin, but without time to prepare for her sudden arrival, he figured it probably looked more awkward than inviting. Still, she smiled back, rather sweetly, too, Rufus noted, unlike her affected mannerisms of the previous day.

She looked like she stepped out of a page of the latest _Vogue_ issue, too, with her fur-trimmed coat and matching muff, velvet gloves and elaborate hat, all in dark plum, which complemented her pale skin and scarlet hair perfectly. Rufus wondered if he really was looking at the same woman he met yesterday; that is, until her smile traded places with a more serious expression.

"What is it?" she demanded, giving herself a once-over. "Is something wrong with me?"

"Of course not!" Rufus quickly reassured her. "You're quite the opposite of 'wrong' right now." He took in a deep breath and turned around to Frank. With a small head nod, he silently asked the old man if he was relieved in order to join Kay in the lobby.

"Oh, go on," grumbled Frank. "Just be sure to mark on your time card when you spent chasin' a skirt, so I know how much to pay you this week." Rufus ignored Frank's teasing, patted the old man on the shoulder and gave him a 'thanks' as he opened the door separating the ticket counter and the lobby. Frank didn't miss an opportunity, and with the door wide open, he called back to his younger employee, "I thought you said she was too young!"

Rufus went pale as he shut the door and hoped Kay heard none of the old codger's shouting. She looked a bit confused, furrowing her brow and shrugging her shoulders.

"Just... ignore whatever that man says," Rufus sighed.

Kay laughed. It was delightfully warm and melodic; it was the kind of laugh that invited everyone else in the room to join it, as if Kay were the director of a giggling choir. "I know all about Frank, I'm afraid!" she reported to the veteran.

"Then you know what I put up with every day," Rufus smirked and gestured for Kay to take a seat on one of the lobby benches after he brushed it off. As he sat next to her, he continued, "Like I was saying, you look fine... I mean, lovely." He meant it, too, though he was taken aback by her complete turn in dress from yesterday. To be honest, he hadn't seen a woman dressed so chicly since he left Chicago the previous year.

Kay looked down and pulled at her coat. "Oh, this? Look, you don't have to be nice; I know this is rather... what's the word... _ostentatious_ considering we're at war. I feel like I'm on display wearing all of this, actually. It's just that Father wants us to..." She looked up suddenly and gulped. "I... don't know why I'm telling you this. I'm sorry."

"No need for apologies," Rufus shrugged. Just then, he had a realization. "Wait, I know!" he said, snapping his fingers. "You're here for Fintan Murdock, aren't you?"

Kay blinked, astonished. "You know about him?"

"Well, not because I really want to, but we," he pointed in Frank's direction, past the ticket window, "were made aware earlier of his arrival today by two particularly intimidating-looking men. Your father's, I presume?"

Kay sunk into the bench, feeling embarrassed. "Probably," she sighed. Her head down, she looked up at Rufus in a convincingly coy manner. "But... I came here early, before the rest of my family. To see you."

The veteran felt himself get a little hot. As much of a life-changer as the war was, it had been a while—too long in Rufus's mind—since receiving any special attention from the fairer sex. War couldn't prepare him for this. "Why?" Rufus nervously coughed out his reply. He forced himself to sit up straight, but then crossed his legs in an attempt to appear casual about Kay's visit. The act of trying to balance his current posture between casual and formal was far more awkward than if he'd let his nervousness play out naturally, but fortunately Kay was too occupied to notice.

Kay, with a half-smile Rufus was already growing accustomed to, reached inside her muff and pulled out a long, red knit scarf. "I didn't see you with one of these yesterday, and you wouldn't let me pay you for your time and help. So here," she unfolded the scarf and handed it to him. "I won't let you refuse this time," she insisted.

"Oh," Rufus breathed in surprise as he graciously took the scarf. Its fine, tight knit felt buttery soft between his fingers. "Thank you. Very much," he told her sincerely, nodding in approval. "You know," Rufus looked up as he mused to Kay, "I was beginning to wonder if anyone in this town was going to give me one of those warm 'Western welcomes' I'd heard so much about back in the city." He bobbed the scarf in his hand and smiled at Kay. "Looks like I finally got it."

"Well... I..." Kay stumbled. "I make those for everyone. I... I have... a... whole drawer of them. Really." The color in her cheeks deepened in an instant. "You deserve it, anyway," she continued to play off her generosity. "But I'm glad you like it," she ended at a near whisper, reaching out to pat his left forearm before realizing there was nothing there to fill out the arm of his jacket. She pulled back quickly, embarrassed.

"Don't feel bad," he reassured her. "I forget it's not there, too. I would cut off the sleeve and just sew it up, but... well..." he held up his right arm, "hard to sew one-handed. Or, at least, I haven't had much time to teach myself one-handed sewing yet."

Kay tried to laugh at that, but wasn't sure if it was appropriate. She managed to barely squeak out her next question. "Did it happen in the mines?"

Rufus shook his head. "France."

"Oh," Kay gasped with widened eyes. A hundred questions filled her mind and fought for position at the front of the asking queue, but too much time must have lapsed, as Rufus ended up bringing Kay a question first.

"So what's your real name, Kay?" he asked with a sideways glance.

Kay almost blurted out her name, completely flummoxed from the news of sitting next to a disabled war veteran along with the sudden conversation change. "It's K... wait... it's _Kay,_" she recovered in the nick of time. "I go by Kay. How did you know that wasn't my full name?"

Rufus stuck a thumb out to the back room. "Frank."

"There's a surprise," said Kay sarcastically. "He didn't tell you what my name is?"

Rufus snorted. "He couldn't even remember which one you were among your sisters."

"Ah. Safety in numbers, I guess," Kay joked, took in a deep breath and exhaled, "but I don't like my full name. It's ridiculous, just like most of my sisters' names. I refuse to use it." And with what little freedom she had, she announced this to Rufus quite proudly.

"How bad can it be? If it's from opera..."

"So Frank at least remembered that much," she interrupted with a grunt. She put a finger to her chin as she began contemplating a new game. "Okay," she addressed Rufus, biting her lip playfully, "here's what I'll do. I'll give you a week to figure out my real name. If, after the week is over and you still don't know it, you will read my favorite book to me..."

Before she could continue, Rufus belted out in laughter. "Read to you? _Why?_"

She looked down sheepishly. "Because I like your accent..."

Rufus found this surprisingly flattering. A Chicagoan as played by an Englishman from Leicester? And to think someone actually enjoyed his voice! He attempted to stifle his laughter and motioned for the young woman to continue with her bet.

Kay now felt a little silly, twisting her mouth to the side as she finished, "If you guess correctly, I'll be your tailor."

Now that was something Rufus could use! "Deal!" he immediately agreed, letting the scarf fall to his lap as he held out his right hand. The two shook hands and the bet was on.

She stood up, prompting Rufus to follow suit. "Well, my family will be here soon, so I should probably meet them outside," she said while absentmindedly taking Rufus's scarf, throwing it over his neck and adjusting it as if she was getting him ready to go with her. Rufus said nothing, only raising an eyebrow and waiting for the moment when she realized she was primping a strange man. After a few more seconds, he cleared his throat, which successfully put Kay back on planet Earth, inside the Thebes, Colorado train station. She snapped her hands away and covered her mouth, horrified.

"Oh, I wasn't even thinking! I'm so used to helping at least one other person as I'm getting ready to go anywhere, and you were conveniently right here..."

Rufus put up his hand to stop her babbling. "Don't worry. It's drafty in here, anyway, and..." he finished the rest of his thought by giving her a show of hands. Or, _hand,_ that is.

"Right," she nodded, pointing to his left arm. "I was thinking ahead!"

"Exactly!" Rufus agreed, patting the scarf. "Now, before you go, do I get a hint?" He bobbed his eyebrows coaxingly at her.

She thought for a second, tapping her lips with a finger. "How much do you know about opera? Any opera? In general?"

"Almost nothing. I might know a song or two from _Carmen,_ maybe."

Suddenly, Kay took a few steps back and cleared her throat. She hummed very quietly for several seconds while looking at the ceiling, attempting to get herself ready for an impromptu solo. Rufus wasn't sure what was going on and decided to sit down again while he was waiting. A bar or two more of humming, and then Kay burst out in song:

"_Martern aller Arten, aller Arten  
Mögen weiner warten  
Ich verlache  
Ich verlache  
Ich verla-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-ache, Qual und Pein..._"

Rufus was stunned mute. Kay's last 'verlache' climbed the entire scale and went on for a half-minute, he was sure. His jaw hung open as he tried to formulate a response, _any _kind of response, other than his current stupor over her nearly perfect (well, perfect to Rufus, at least) a capella rendition of... whatever opera this aria was from. He at least had enough rational thought left to make a mental note about it being possibly a German opera.

"Does that sound familiar?" she asked finally.

Rufus looked at her a good minute before responding with, "No. It sounds _beautiful._"


	4. Chapter 4

The town of Thebes's small police force was doing its best to maintain crowd control that afternoon as the _Denver Express _pulled up next to the station's platform. The only people currently on the platform were Theo, his daughters and some station workers, and everyone else who came out of curiosity to get a glimpse of the great magician and philosopher, Fintan Murdock, was kept at a distance outside the train station. Theo and his family could hear the distant clamor of the rubbernecking crowd until the gears, steam and other mechanics of the approaching train drowned out all other noise.

The cold February wind took a bite at everyone, stinging noses and cheeks as it blew through the station. Each time it picked up, those gathered on the platform would wince and attempt to bury their heads into their shoulders, like turtles retreating into their shells. Kay felt it was taking an inordinately long time for the guest of honor to depart the express train. The sooner she could get out of the cold, the better, even if it meant being paraded around by her father for the evening to amuse and entertain this stranger, Mr. Murdock.

She couldn't think of anything she was looking forward to less at the moment than meeting this creepy man as a part of his silly North American tour for the Temple of Helios. Kay took a long, weary exhale as she thought about her routine being interrupted by Mr. Murdock for the next... well, however long he was planning on discussing her father's grandiose plans for a temple and health spa in the foothills of the Front Range. Hopefully Fintan would hate this place and move on to the west coast, _very far away _from Kay and her sisters. Unfortunately, her father had some of the deepest pockets in the country, and that would probably be most alluring to the magician.

Kay shuddered at all her dreadful thoughts and decided to focus on something more pleasant instead. Lined up in chronological order with her sisters (which she found nauseatingly cutesy for a group of grown women), she glanced behind her shoulder towards one of the station's windows. She could barely make out Rufus's visage behind the glass, but she knew it was him and gave him a quick smile and a wave before turning around. Her sister, Juliette, to her right, eyed Kay and twisted up a corner of her mouth.

"Who is that man?" asked Juliette suspiciously, leaning into Kay.

Kay blocked her sister's lean with a shoulder and frowned. "Someone who works here," she said defensively, looking her sister over. "My, but gravity is giving you trouble today, dear sister!" continued Kay with an amused sneer. Lakmé overheard Kay and snickered; Juliette harrumphed, straightened her posture and turned her nose to the air.

"You seem very familiar with him, though, don't you? I've never seen your grin so toothy," accused Juliette, a touch bitter.

"Oh, stop," Kay grumbled as she rolled her eyes. Just once, Kay wished Juliette would find some independence and not rely so heavily on what her other sisters were doing for her own entertainment. "I only met him yesterday. He's a nice gentleman, and you have just as much opportunity to _familiarize_ yourself with him as I. If you ever left the house, that is."

"Kay!" scolded their older sister, Izzy, bending forward to get a better look at her sharp-tongued sibling. Kay refused to return the glance. Izzy whispered loudly, "Now's certainly not the time to get into one of your silly debates over going out or staying in, you two." Since Kay would have nothing to do with Izzy's lecture, Izzy turned her attention to Juliette, raising her eyebrows at her statuesque sister.

Juliette simply shifted in place once and stared straight ahead. She let a few seconds pass before looking back at Kay and stealthily moving a hand towards her sister's midsection. Kay had gone back to minding her own business, that is, checking on Rufus again―she wished to be inside continuing her conversation with him rather than standing around for an eternity in the freezing cold―until she felt a sharp jab in her right side. She yelped slightly, amusing Lakmé into giggles once more. Kay looked around to see who else had heard her sudden cry; most of her sisters were now eyeing her curiously. Kay's cheeks turned as red as her curly tresses. Oh! Juliette was being such a pain!

"Grow up, Jules!" she snarled under her breath.

"Well, don't blame me for your crazy spasms," Juliette whispered back, wearing a cheeky grin. "Perhaps if you spent more time in dance practice instead of gallivanting through town, you'd be able to control your... _ouch!_"

Kay had _no_ idea how her foot landed on top of Juliette's. "Oh, my oafish clumsiness! I do beg your pardon, lovely sister, for interrupting your most important lecture. Please, go on about my lack of..."

Kay was immediately hushed by the view of her father slowly working his way down the line of his offspring, surveying them as if he were a sergeant inspecting his troops. The women stiffened, and each waited breathlessly for Theo to pass them and scrutinize the next sister in line. As Theo made it to the end of the line and slowly turned on his heel, he took a prolonged stop between Kay and Juliette, sharing with them a critical glare that lasted much longer than Kay or Juliette were comfortable with. They both felt the tiny hairs on the back of their necks stand up, wondering when his moment of silent reproach would end.

Just then one of the station workers announced the man of the hour and his entourage would detrain shortly. Theo wasted no time rushing to the front of the proper passenger car, straightening his coat and hat and attempting to smooth his thick, unruly eyebrows and sideburns. _There's no helping you there, Daddy, _Kay thought to herself, thankful his gargantuan shadow wasn't looming over her anymore.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled to Juliette as she took her sister by the hand.

Juliette squeezed Kay's hand and replied remorsefully, "Me, too." The two let their hand-holding linger a few seconds before their eyes were both drawn to the handsome figure stepping out of the car and shaking hands with their father. There was sudden murmuring among the women as they watched Mr. Murdock, the man their father worshiped like divinity, fully emerge from the train.

Fintan Murdock owed much of his charisma to his dashing good looks. Of course, it helped that he came from posh society, had traveled the world and spoke with a silver-tongued voice of velvet, but as he stepped off the train, it was hard for the 12 sisters awaiting their introductions to deny the power of his physical magnetism. Kay almost forgot that the man's philosophies disgusted her, as she and her sisters were taken aback by Fintan's impressively dapper appearance, clad in a dark coat, slacks with a perfect crease down the front of both legs and dress boots polished to a mirror finish. He carried a black cane with gold trim under his right arm and secured a crisp, fashionable homburg to his head, planting both feet onto the train platform and giving the collection of siblings a debonair grin and a flash of his icy-gray eyes as his handshake with their father ended. He was tall, broad shouldered and carried himself with a confident gait. Several of the sisters hoped that the rising color in their cheeks was hidden by the nip of the chilly winter air, and Kay felt confused over her prejudice towards the man.

"Why isn't he married?" Lakmé asked rhetorically. It was then Kay realized that she wasn't alone in thinking this man's charm could be seen for miles. Creatures dwelling in caves on the moon could see it, probably. She watched―though there was too much noise to overhear―as her father and Fintan exchanged friendly greetings and other formalities. Several other people, some of whom were quite exotically dressed, departed the passenger car as well, and slowly a small group of eclectic individuals in all manner of costume surrounded Fintan and Theo.

A minute or two of introductions later, Fintan boldly turned in the direction of the sisters and strode excitedly towards them, obviously used to doing things his own way, not waiting for Theo to make the initial greetings. Theo quickly caught up with the brazen man and made himself a barrier between his daughters and the Englishman.

"The Twelve Houses!" exclaimed Fintan, his arms outstretched as he greeted the 12 women. Kay's original conflicted feelings towards Mr. Murdock instantly turned back to repugnance; she _hated _being referred to as a "house." It was dehumanizing and degrading. Her father, it seemed, took sudden pleasure in the reference, as if he was the one responsible for such a fabulous creation as siring 12 daughters to represent the heavens. In truth Theo _was _responsible for having 12 daughters, but his pride wasn't over how lovely or smart or creative they were. It wasn't because each of them had so much potential for life and could contribute positively to the world at large. It was because they were _his; _they belonged to him, his prized collection of children, so that they could obey and serve and bring him esteem among the Heliadae High Council, as if throwing his wealth at them didn't already curry enough favor. Kay found it sickening that her father absolutely beamed at Fintan's delight over the women, his precious "houses."

"My _word,_ Theodoric," Fintan said, enthralled, "not only have you fulfilled your destiny by populating the houses of the sky, but your daughters are positively radiant, indeed! Daughters of the Sun! Daughters of the Stars!"

_We have names, too, _Kay grumbled in her head.

Theo grinned smugly at Fintan. "Yes, yes, truly I am blessed. Come, Mr. Murdock, you must meet them," he guided Fintan to the front of the line.

Fintan put a hand up to halt the proceedings. "My secretary!" he craned his neck towards his colorful groupies. "Is he still out of commission?"

A man in a turban and several heavy, ornate robes replied in a thick accent, "Yes, my good lord." He pointed to a man sitting on one of the platform's benches, pale as a ghost and slumped heavily over the bench's arm. A doctor was tending to him.

"Bother!" Fintan complained. "I was hoping to account properly for the duration of my stay with you, Theodoric."

Theo's face lit up with interest; visions of being included in Fintan's biography filled the millionaire's head. "Of... of course! Certainly I can find a suitable replacement..."

"I know!" Kay spoke up, emboldened. Low chatter picked up among the confused crowd on the platform as Kay disregarded formalities and trotted lightly into the station. Through one of the long windows Kay could be seen coaxing Rufus to come with her; he looked quite rattled as she dragged him outside without giving him time to put on his coat or hat. She continued, chirping, "This is Rufus Underwood. He was a stenographer for the Chicago Daily Tribune and more recently was a war reporter, serving in France!" Her face brightened as she looked back at him.

Rufus couldn't count the number of eyes on him at that moment. "H-hello?" he nodded politely, though flustered, first at Theo and Fintan, then at anyone else in front of him. Before Theo could chastise Kay for the incredible interruption, Fintan addressed Rufus.

"Good man, can you take shorthand like that?" he asked, pointing at Rufus's left arm. "You seem to be missing something." Kay thought Fintan's remark was uncalled for, not funny in the least, despite the chuckles coming from everyone and Rufus's good-natured grin.

Rufus replied, "It might look a trifle awkward, but I've found ways to work around my lack of a proper limb."

"Splendid!" Fintan went on, animatedly turning to Theo and clapping the man on the back. "I love this town of yours, Theodoric! How reformist of you to be hiring the disabled!" Theo puffed out his chest, quite pleased by the flattery. Fintan gestured flamboyantly in Rufus's direction. "Fetch your notepad and coat, dear fellow, and show us your best dictation!" Rufus waited for a nod from Theo before dashing back into the station and hastily retrieving the items he'd need. Emerging on the platform once more and demonstrating to Fintan and Theo how he could secure the notepad between the remainder of his upper left arm and his chest, the greetings continued, Rufus jotting down feverishly all that was exchanged between the men.

Fintan was introduced to all the sisters in turn as they were identified by their astrological houses and the duties they performed for the Temple. Rufus observed that Frank was incorrect about the sisters being connected to Egyptian deities at the mention of astrological houses and accompanying Latin. Aida of _Domus Vita_, Brünnhilde of _Domus Lucrum_, Carmen of _Domus Fratres_, Desdemona of _Domus Genitor_, Esclarmonde of _Domus Nati_, Fiordiligi of _Domus Valetudo_, Gioconda of _Domus Uxor_, Hedwige of _Domus Mors_, Isolde of _Domus Itineris_, Juliette of _Domus Regnum_...

Then it was Kay's turn. She felt a sudden tingling sensation as she realized she would lose the bet between herself and Rufus in the next second, and as her father was about to say her name, Kay quickly interrupted with a bewitching smile, honeyed voice and an outstretched hand, "Kay. Kay Frumoldus. _Domus Benefactua, _or House of Friendship, if you will. As I represent all social gatherings, as well as hopes and desires, it is my duty to attend to and entertain you during your stay with us." She bowed her head slightly and curtsied as Fintan most delightedly took her hand.

"Enchanting, my dear, simply enchanting!" he praised her highly, kissing the top of her glove as Theo looked on, shooting daggers at both Kay and Fintan, while Juliette, knowing her father wouldn't notice with his back to her, made a sour face at Kay to show her repulsion over her sister's showy interjection. As Fintan moved on to Lakmé, Theo hovered over Kay, looking down at her reprovingly. All Kay could see was his giant nose, which she tried not to stare at directly. Her father's long snout could have made an awning for Kay at that moment, had there been more measurable sunlight on this overcast day. Her heart rate quickened, knowing she had gone too far today and fearing the impending punishment. A nudge from Fintan caused Theo to turn his attention to his youngest daughter, delaying Kay's inevitable, forced atonement. In her youthful competitiveness she had forgotten that Theo's penalties for impertinent behavior were high, and she regretted her moves to keep her bet with Rufus alive.

Rufus gave Kay concerned looks between taking notes, now having seen her father's intimidating dominance firsthand. Kay's cheery disposition had faded to the look of an abused animal, and he worried that he had shared a part in some forthcoming harm towards Kay, even if he had little to do with her continued interruptions and brassy moves that afternoon. He stole a moment when he could and covertly leaned in her direction.

"Are you okay?" he asked her in a low but distressed voice.

Kay fought back the tears. She let a few seconds pass as she put on a stoic mask to cover the ill feeling she felt in her gut. She finally looked back at Rufus, replying soberly, "I will be fine."

Rufus was stunned. He continued shadowing Theo and Fintan, taking notes perfunctorily, but couldn't shake the feeling of responsibility towards his new friend, Kay. There were many more questions than there were answers, and the answers he could deduce were all unpleasant, if not downright malicious. He regretted allowing Kay to socialize with him; he had no idea he had compromised her safety to such an extent.


End file.
